


Thoughts

by ScarletteStar1



Series: Jane and Sylvie [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Pining, Sexual Confusion, sapphic tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:15:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27898153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletteStar1/pseuds/ScarletteStar1
Summary: In which we get a glimpse into the mind of Jane. . .
Series: Jane and Sylvie [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050728
Kudos: 10





	Thoughts

Walking through the airport, Jane thought about the things that made her life hers.

It was a habit she had, a grounding technique she employed when she landed in a strange place, sort of like flipping through a mental catalogue of who she really was.

She thought about her plants and hoped the housekeeper remembered to water them properly. She thought about her dog in the kennel and chased herself in circles of guilt for traveling so much. Calculating time differences, she thought about the call she’d have (or try to have) later on with Harold. She thought about her barren womb and the huge house on the hill that never heard the laughter of children. She thought about what kind of roast she’d like to cook for Sunday next when she was home (and maybe she’d invite Maribeth and Sal for supper).She thought about walking a long ways on a long beach and picking up perfectly round rocks to put in colorful, antique vases back at home.

Her shoes were making her feet sore. She couldn’t get to the hotel fast enough. No doubt Sylvie booked her a room with a massive bathtub despite the fact Jane told her to do something modest. The thought made her smile. In the cab, she toed off her shoes and flexed her feet, but she still smiled at the thought of Sylvie scrolling through hotel rooms and settling on the one that would make Jane most comfortable.

While settling her luggage and tipping the bellhop, her phone buzzed with a text.

_Don’t forget dinner w Piter Katz at 7. Hope the room is ok._

_Thanks. Room is grand. A little extravagant, no?_

_Nothing but the best!_ Sylvie texted back with a series of smiley faces.

As it happened, Piter wound up cancelling their dinner plans. Jane hadn’t been particularly excited about meeting with him, but Sylvie had gone to the trouble of booking the dinner so Jane wouldn’t have to eat alone on her first night. The last thing she wanted to do was go across town to the main hotel being used for the conference and mingle with the other participants at the big reception. Those dog and pony shows were never her scene, which was why she typically had Sylvie book her into a separate hotel some distance from the actual conference.

 _Maybe I should start bringing Sylvie to these things_ , she thought. _At least if my dinner companion canceled, I won’t eat alone._

She drank a martini at the hotel bar and ordered a cheese board. The bartender was overly keen on sharing every detail about the selection of cheeses and artisanal olives. Normally Jane would have been more indulgent with her attention, but she found herself distracted. She was thinking about the next day’s schedule and about the curtains she’d ordered for her dining room. She was second guessing the cyan blue. To otherwise occupy the poor bartender, she ordered a second martini.

When her cheese plate came, she snapped a picture of it and sent it to Sylvie. She texted that Piter had canceled and Sylvie would not believe the twenty minute dissertation Jane just got on the cheese in the pic.

_Nice!_

Jane stared at the response. It wasn’t like Sylvie to send a single syllable response, especially when Jane had sent not only a photo, but a witty story along with it. She finished her drink and had the food boxed up to take to her room. All the way up in the elevator, she perseverated about Sylvie’s text. Jane fiddled with the buttons on her jacket and then played with her hair. It wasn’t like her to be this distracted. She made a mental note to make an appointment with her OBGYN to have bloodwork done again. At forty seven, it was completely logical that the onset of peri-menopausal symptoms could be causing her lack of focus and strange thought processes.

Back in her room, Jane drew a bath and changed into a robe. She thought about next week’s schedule and remembered she’d be seeing patients in the satellite office. Without even realizing what she was doing, she picked up her phone and called Sylvie.

“Hey Boss,” the warm, slightly raspy voice greeted her on the second ring.

“Syl, hello.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. I was just thinking about next week and wondering if you’d managed to confirm the Danvers consult?”

“Yup. It’s all set. No worries.”

“Thank you. I’ll be able to relax now,” Jane tried to chuckle and sound natural and not like she was a middle-aged woman standing alone in a hotel room in her bare feet playing with her hair like an angsty, awkward teenager. “How are you?”

“Good, good. I’m actually on a date. Can we talk later? Or maybe tomorrow?”

“A date? Oooh, how fun. Who’s the lucky fellow?”

“Ummm, well the lucky fellow is actually a lovely lady named Rachel, soooo. . .”

“Oh. Gosh. I didn’t. . . well, you enjoy your night!” Jane ended the call before Sylvie could say anything else. Had she known Sylvie dated women? Had she ever even thought about it before? She didn’t think she had actually ever given it a single thought, but as she slid into the hot, sudsy bath, it was the only thought she could have.

 _Did it matter?_ Of course it didn’t.

As a doctor, Jane was competent and comfortable working with any and all people on the LGBTQIA spectrum. Many of her close colleagues were gay as well as Harold’s brother and her former roommate from college. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had plenty of exposure and contact with people who were gay. In fact it wasn’t something to which she’d ever personally given much thought before. It was scientifically, simply a natural part of the human experience.

Why then was it so jarring to think of Sylvie out on a date with a woman. Why was she trying to picture what that woman looked like, how old she was, where they were having dinner, if they would be going back to Sylvie’s after?

Jane ate the rest of her cheese in bed while trying to review the notes for the panel she was sitting on the next morning. She kept checking her phone. She had a brief call with Harold, but heard nothing from Sylvie who she assumed was living her best life out on the town with some gorgeous, young lady named Rachel.

Sleeping in a hotel by herself was never easy, especially the first night she was away. Even after doing some stretches and breathing exercises for relaxation, she figured she’d wake puffy and haggard the next morning. She touched her face with a pang of dismay. Sylvie was in her late twenties and still had alarmingly dewy skin. She was like a fairy, or at least some sort of mythical nymph who swore a blue streak. The thought made Jane smile as she settled under the sterile, white hotel sheets. Sylvie’s enormous blue eyes appeared every time Jane tried to close her own eyes to rest. Jane imagined reaching out and twirling a lock of her long, auburn hair around her finger. Unconsciously, Jane had twisted the sheet around her hand, thinking of this.

She did something she hadn’t done in decades. She brought the sheet to her lips, opened her mouth and bit down on a corner of it. She chewed it until it was soft and wet and filled her mouth in a way that felt satisfying. Then she slept.


End file.
